Pirates of Azkaban
by dragonfire owns
Summary: A little collection of one shots connected by a rather convenient premise. Probably an assortment of pairings. Insane!Harry


This is just a plot bunny that would not stop bothering me until I spent a bit of my night on it. I may or may not be updating with any sort of regularity. I am planning this as a collection of **completely AU **one-shots tied together by a rather convenient premise. Also, I may or may not be making this a multi-crossover.

Harry Potter was mad. His eyes darkened, turned cold. His face turned red. A deadly snarl lifted his lips, reveling extremely sharp fangs. His fingers transformed into claws. He shifted, bringing himself into a fighting stance. His hair whirled in a non-existent wind.

Harry Potter was royally pissed. Something boiled just beneath his skin, writhing like a nest of snakes, churning like waves on an angry sea. Heat escaped as steam from his ears. It felt like 50 giants were striking his head with their mighty hammers. His vision hazed, turning a malevolent red. Blood dripped in front of his eyes. He roared.

Harry Potter raged. His feelings manifested themselves as a storming aura, a bright, angry red that moved hectically, chaotically as the enemy approached. Tornados swirled within, some spinning towards the approaching army. Lightning crackled along the outside. Thunder rumbled, roaring over the mass of wizards.

Puny wizards. They dared test **HIM**? He would respond harshly, without forgiveness. Forgiveness was weakness, and if there was one thing Harry Potter was, it was not **weak**. He would respond in accordance to the ways of those who came before him. His world had no need for these weaklings.

He unleashed a blast of pure magic at them. Some raised weak shields in response. Fools. A dozen were taken out, reduced to nothing but ashes as the blast hit them. A scowl. He could do much better.

Blast after blast roared towards the mass of wizards, taking out dozens at a time. Some tried to shield as futilely as those before them. Others tried to move sideways, to get out of the way of the raging crescents of magic. They had only slightly more success, so tightly packed were the ranks.

And still they came. Spells, thousands and thousands of spells screamed towards him. He ignored them. They could do nothing, weak as they were. He towered over them, a wrathful titan.

And still they came. Some had nearly reached him, sneaking around behind him. Did they think he did not know they were there? He spun, kicked out at those closest to him. A dozen men screamed as their ribcages were destroyed as they were thrown into the air. Another dozen made no noise at all as they were crushed beneath his foot.

A sudden piercing pain in his lower leg. Shock. He looked down, enraged as he saw the long bolt that dug deep into his skin. He roared again. Wings unfurled from his back, massive black, leathery wings. Horns sprouted from his head, curving down towards his chin. Black scales appeared on his arms and legs.

A mighty flap of his wings and he was aloft, sending more than a few wizards sprawling. He ripped the shaft out of his leg, flung it disdainfully at the wizards clustered below. They had to do better than that.

"**Devastation!**" he roared, gesturing with his hands. A wave of fire blasted towards the wizards below, incinerating the first several ranks.

And still they came. These seemed more determined than the last. He remained hovering, obliterating ranks of wizards with his crescents of magic. The spells that impacted with his body now were not the overpowered stunners and petrifying spells from before. He scoffed. What had they been thinking? No, these were almost overwhelmingly dark spells: moderate pain curses, dark cutters, bone melters and the like.

And still nothing. Such was his power. Such was his might. And yet the inexorable tide of wizards continued forward. They were trying to overwhelm him with numbers. Not going to work.

He gestured again. "**Annihilation!**" Another wave of fire. The ground shook. Meteors fell from the sky. Thousands died.

And still they came. They had switched spell classes yet again, uniformly using the killing curse now. No matter. He would crush these annoying ants. He would take over the world, his inheritance. He would rule the earth. Such was his birthright.

A sudden pain and he roared again. He looked up. Several helicopters hovered in front of him, machine guns spinning. A rumble below and more pain. A tank squad rolled into sight. A roar overhead, a strange whistling, and the world exploded. Jets.

He crashed into the ground, crushing several dozen wizards beneath his massive body. He had not thought that the wizards would use muggle technology. A mistake.

Yet another explosion and the world spun. He knew that if it continued this way he would die. Even he could not take much more. Fine. If they wanted it this way. He would allow no one to take his birthright away from him. If he couldn't have it, no one could.

He stood, drawing all of his power to him, chanting in the dark language of his forebears. He ignored the pain of the continued assault by the helicopters and tanks. He could not allow himself to be interrupted. Not now.

He finished his incantation, heard the roar of the jets again. He smiled, an evil thing that made those attacking him cringe and step back. He had it.

"**RAGNAROK**!"

The ground shook, cracked. Lava spewed out of the cracks. It rained brimstone. The sky burned. Lightning blasted holes in the ground. The seas were whipped into a fury by mighty winds. Typhoons fought fires with a ceaseless fury. The world tore itself apart.

Harry Potter slept.

This turned out a bit shorter than I had hoped. Whatever. Again, not promising I'll update with any kind of regularity, or update at all. Reviews would still be appreciated.


End file.
